


Trespassing

by lost_spook



Category: Gosford Park (2001), Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-30
Updated: 2010-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An elderly Inspector Thompson finds a young Jools scrumping for apples in his garden</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trespassing

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Daibhid_c in an LJ crossover meme.

"You were in the police, weren't you?"

Thompson turned slowly - he couldn't do anything quickly these days - to see a schoolboy, probably about 11 or so, sitting on his garden wall, dressed in the uniform of the posh boys' school up the road. He also appeared to be eating away at one of Thompson's own apples with complete unconcern. "I was. Interested in joining the force, are you?"

"What? No," the boy said, wrinkling his nose at the thought and taking another bite of the apple. "Policemen are stupid."

"Now, look here, young feller-me-lad -."

"Well, _you_ are. You didn't notice me taking your apples until now, did you?"

Thompson sighed. Well, he hadn't, but on the other hand, someone always stole the apples. Scrumping was one of the things that schoolboys existed to do and they weren't his favourites anyway. Mrs Thompson had been fond of them, once upon a time.

"You never solved that murder, all those years ago," the school boy continued through a mouthful of fruit. "Made a right bungle of it. People still talk about you down in the village: that useless old inspector who couldn't even work out who stabbed Sir William McWhatsit."

The ex-policeman narrowed his gaze. "Right. What's your name, then, young man? I'm going to be having a word with your -."

"I mean, come on, did you really not know? Or did one of them pay you not to say anything?"

Thompson glared. "I asked you what your -."

"How about it, Inspector Thomas? Go on, spill the beans."

"It's Thompson, and I've had enough of this, you cheeky young -."

The boy swallowed the last piece of apple and threw the core down, with a sudden innocent look on his face. "Oh, didn't I explain? It's for a school project, sir."

"A project?"

The youngster nodded. "We were allowed to choose our own topics."

"Well, why didn't you say so instead of sitting there and being so infernally -."

The boy slid down off the wall. "I've got all the old newspaper reports from the library, but I thought I could interview you as well."

"I suppose there's no harm in that. As long as you -."

The school boy leant back against the wall. "And then, of course, I'm sure I'll be able to solve the case."

"You're sure you'll what? You young devil!"

"Of course. I mean, I've got a jolly decent brain, you know. What do you say, Inspector?"

"I think," Thompson said eventually, "if I see you round here again, I'll be writing to your head teacher."

The boy shrugged. "Oh, well. I don't suppose you'd have had much to add, anyway." Then he nimbly hopped back over the wall and ambled off, whistling.

"Hmph," said the elderly ex-inspector, watching him go. What was the world coming to?


End file.
